Tale of a Travelling Apothecary
by WritesWithQuill
Summary: With a heavy heart and mind full of regrets, Ogen finally returns to Northreach to visit his wife once again... Spoilers for Alfyn's story. High T for dark themes and suicide references. One-Shot.


_Disclaimer: Octopath Traveler belongs to Nintendo and Square Enix, only the story is mine - obviously._

 _This story contains major spoilers for Alfyn's story and Ogen's post story sidequest and is rated a high T for graphic descriptions and dark, suicidal themes about halfway through - if you're not comfortable reading murder scenes or attempted suicide, I would recommend against reading this story. I've also taken some 'creative liberties' with the actual plot of the game while writing this, so my apologies for any glaringly obvious discrepancies. I ask you to enjoy the story for what it is - my interpretation of the events of Ogen's past._

 _This was originally going to be a part of my upcoming One-Shot collection Travel On (which is set to start this Saturday) before I started writing it and realised it was going to be a lot longer than I'd originally planned. So, if you - and I say this loosely since its a rather bittersweet story - enjoy this, I ask you to keep an eye open for Travel On this weekend since it'll be a collection of - mostly - happier stories written in a similar style._

 _Anyway, if you enjoy this, please favourite, follow, review, come follow me on Twitter if you really like - just let me know what you think!_

 _Thanks for reading this note, enjoy!_

* * *

Tale of a Travelling Apothecary

In all his years as a travelling apothecary, Ogen had never once visited the Frostlands. He'd travelled the road to Flamesgrace on more than one occasion, only to follow the fork to the Flatlands at the last possible instance.

Sinner he was, what right did he have to pass through the town that Aelfric himself had blessed? Murderer he was, what right did he have to visit the land he had once lived in with his wife?

And yet, shortly after Alfyn had healed him of his surely mortal plague, his feet followed the road from Orewell to Northreach almost unbidden by his mind. As soon as he set foot on the road up the snowy mountain to the place he had once called home, Ogen knew why he had returned.

It was time to face his wife again.

"Melyssa..."

Walking that winding mountain pass once again, Ogen couldn't help but remember the first time he had. He'd been young then, likely only a little older than Alfyn, and certainly as talented and passionate. With but a year of intense study at the Atlasdam Academy under his belt, Ogen had thought himself ready to start practising his craft.

And so he'd followed the fork from the Flatlands to the Frostlands for the first time, coming across an injured young lady as soon as he'd stepped foot on those snowy wilds.

It'd been a Cait, apparently, that had done the deed - something the apothecary had teased her over no end once she was well again. It'd knocked the young lady over as it'd stolen her purse and pelted her with her own leaves. She'd been covered with both Cait and leaf scratches when Ogen had found her, but she'd been smart enough to use snow to soothe the wounds and slow the bleeding.

Immediately, his medicinal mind had taken over, slathering her in salves and wrapping her in bandages; meanwhile hers had been full of mischief as she watched the handsome young stranger help her back on her feet.

"Thank you ever so for your help, Sir Apothecary," she'd batted her eyelashes at him as she strained to stay on her feet. "But I fear I'm too weak to walk up to my home in Northreach alone..."

"Allow me to assist you, milady." He'd offered immediately, dense enough to miss her flirting as he'd wrapped her arm around his shoulder to support her.

And so the two had travelled together through the snowy wastes.

On their short journey together, they had shared stories and life goals: the lady was as surprised to learn that the young man was looking to be a traveller his entire life as the man was to learn the lady wanted nothing more than to move to Everhold and become an actress. It was a courtship both short and sweet, for when they'd arrived at the bridge into Northreach, the Mind-Me-Always were in bloom.

"Oh, how wonderful..." The lady had gasped. They'd been but buds when she'd left a week ago to visit family, now they were small flowers full grown, their bright yellow petals fading into blue centres. She had been in the process of kneeling down to pick one when her injuries suddenly burst into pain once again.

"Allow me, milady," the apothecary had offered, his hand still about her waist to support her as he'd knelt down to pick her a handful of the blossoms. He'd presented them to her almost shyly, a hint of red on his cheeks far brighter than that caused by the biting cold.

"My own personal knight in shining armour!" She'd joked as she'd taken the blooms from him, holding them close to her chest.

"Just," he had shrugged delicately, "doin' my job. It's my duty to make sure my patient has everything they need."

"Including Mind-Me-Always blossoms?"

"If she so desires them, yes." The apothecary had nodded, making them both chuckled as they'd crossed the bridge into town.

It'd been a lifetime since that day, yet Ogen remembered it as clearly as the last. They'd made their way to her home together and he'd helped her into her bed, promising to come by the next morning to check on her recovery. Of course he'd kept true to his word, returning to her home from the inn at the crack of dawn, new fist full of Mind-Me-Always by his side.

And so a week had passed like that as Ogen had continued to stop by the girl's home every morning to check on the progression of her healing and to bring her fresh flowers. And then that week had turned to a month as the man had made pretences to visit the lady after giving each of the towns people check-ups and medicinal help as needed.

After the second month, his dream of being a travelling apothecary had faded into the back of his mind as the lady's smile and witty humour continued to hold him captive.

"And why do you not travel on, Sir Apothecary?" She'd ask him as she made them both stew.

"People still need me here, milady." He'd answer with a smile. "I can hardly leave patients behind. …Why do you not leave to try your talents in Everhold?"

"Hmm," she'd hum to herself happily. "Mayhap I've reason to stay here in Northreach a while yet."

"Aye?"

"Aye." She'd answer with a giggle. "As long as the flowers bloom, I think I'll stick around."

But soon the season that the flowers bloomed had rolled on and the nights became ever longer - the lady had told him that at some times, this coming season, the sun never rose. With the lack of sunlight and prevailing snow, there was always need for an apothecary in Northreach; Ogen could've set up a nice little shop to help those in need for profit if he so desired. But what reason would there have been for him to stay if his lady had decided to move on?

And so the last day of flower season had come, the Mind-Me-Always putting on their last show as the lady had packed her bags.

It'd been a strange day for her, the first step in the direction of following her dreams, yet she had been reluctant to leave her town behind in a way that felt much less like cold feet and more like realisation that her dream was perhaps not what she had once thought it was. And where in Orsterra was her apothecary?

Everyday for the last four moons he'd been in her house either morning or evening, yet today he was nowhere to be seen. He'd seemingly disappeared in a puff of medicinal smoke. Frustrated at him, the lady had huffed and hauled her bag over her shoulder, deciding that she would leave town without pomp and circumstance if he wouldn't so much as say goodbye. So she'd crossed the bridge out of Northreach with but one glance over her shoulder, thinking she'd never see her apothecary again.

And yet, there he was, on his knee with a bouquet of Mind-Me-Always in his hands in the field at the end of the bridge.

To this day, Ogen could still clearly remember the words he'd said as he proposed to the lady he'd come to love:

"Melyssa, please, wait a moment before you leave! I have much to confess, if you will hear me."

She'd stood on the bridge in awe, a slight nod giving him all he'd needed to carry on.

"I left Atlasdam with dreams of becomin' a travelling apothecary, a vagabond with a satchel of tonics to heal the sick and weary. Never once did I think I'd become lovesick myself as I crossed the first boarder of this continent. Never once did I think I'd meet anyone quite as wonderful or joyous as you, my lady. And so I ask you to take me with you, wherever you travel and wherever life takes you. I… I want to be there to see you succeed, Melyssa, every step of the way. And I want to be your shoulder to cry on should you fail, should you need someone you can trust and rely on." He'd stood, a bright blush on his cheeks as he'd thrust the bouquet of flowers towards her. "I'd like to be your husband and protector, if you'd have me, my love."

Melyssa had not moved from her spot on the bridge the entire time he'd professed his love, had not changed expressions from that slightly confused little smile of hers. Yet, as he finished his proposal, she'd shook her head and let out a little laugh. "Oh, Ogen…"

His heart had done backflips, thinking that had been a no. Instead, the lady'd simply walked over to him and took the bouquet from his hand, looking them over in great interest.

And then she smiled up at him, a smile brighter than the sun. "Of course, my love."

There'd been a moment of delay in Ogen's mind as he'd registered that Melyssa had accepted his proposal. As he'd realised that this beautiful lady was to be his wife. As soon as it clicked, he'd embraced her, their first kiss of so many as they'd laughed and celebrated.

Then had come the question of where they'd travel next.

With only his satchel of tonics and her bag of clothes, the two had taken all the leaves they owned and made for Flamesgrace, laughing and pelting each other with snowballs all the way. They were like children at that time, so happy and newly in love that they didn't know how to behave like adults. Not that it really mattered, they'd managed to bring joy to all those who saw them together as they travelled those snowy wastes.

Upon arriving in Flamesgrace, Melyssa had made for the provisioner to purchase a dress as Ogen'd made for the Cathedral of Aelfric, hoping that the bishop would be willing to perform a ceremony for two young travellers.

The priest he met was the most recent flamebearer, a man not too much older than himself named Josef. His wife had recently fallen ill as a result of the harsh winter and cold summer, so he'd employed the apothecary's aid in exchange for performing his wedding. After a few days, Josef's wife was well again and had attended the little ceremony held for Ogen and Melyssa. Josef had pronounced them man and wife under the recently kindled flame of Aelfric and, for a time, the two had truly believed that the Gods were indeed smiling upon them.

They'd made for Everhold together after their wedding, Ogen healing people along the way to buy them meals and a room at the inn. He had been pursuing his dream while they followed the road that would allow Melyssa to pursue her own. For that time, all was well.

They'd arrived in Everhold to find the town all abuzz. Apparently, his majesty Alfred of Hornburg was to be attending the next play and the lead actress had fallen ill at the last possible instance, leaving her role open for those desperate to take the stage. Ogen and Melyssa had shared a glance as they arrived in the chaotic town – the Gods continued to favour them. As Melyssa went to audition before the director, Ogen'd made for the sick actress and administered his tonics to her, hoping she got well as he'd also hoped his wife would be the one to take her role.

"I'm the substitute lead!" Melyssa had burst into the sick actress' home, her smile almost as bright as when she'd accepted his proposal.

"Congratulations, my love!" Ogen had shouted back at her, moving from the sickbed's side to embrace his wife as the former lead watched on. Yes, she'd been jealous of the travelling girl, not because she was the one who had taken her place, but because she had a compassionate husband who would support her with his entire being.

"Congratulations, my lady," the sickly actress had smiled at her, no malice or jealousy on her face. No, she'd been truly happy for this girl, and hoped that she could one day find that same happiness that she had.

And so Ogen had watched his wife perform her first and only role at Everhold for the King of Hornburg. She'd been stunning, so impressive that it was as though Sealticge herself had blessed her performance.

And yet, the sick actress had been well again come the next performance and Melyssa had given her her role back with open arms as Ogen watched on in confusion.

"Why are you so willing to give your dream back to her?" He'd asked her as they took their seats the next night to watch the play again.

"My dream has been fulfilled, love." She'd replied simply, her eyes wistful. "I've wanted to perform for the masses ever since I was a child, and yet now… I would like nothing more than to return to Northreach with you by my side, Ogen."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Melyssa had looked at the apothecary closely. "Travelling's all well and good, love, but how would you like to set up a shop with loyal customers? How would you like a house to call your own with your loving wife and – Gods willing – family?"

"And you would be willing to put your dream of acting aside?" Ogen had asked in astonishment. In truth, the lure of a permanent home and family had been tempting him more and more with each passing day…

"I would rather act before a tavern of drunkards than a coliseum of nobles," she'd laughed. "There's far less pressure and far more joy that way."

"Then yes, my love," Ogen had nodded to her as the curtains rose. "I would like nothing more than to settle into domesticity with you."

They'd left town the next morning, smiles and new dreams on their lips. And when they'd arrived at Northreach again, the season of the continuous moon shone on them, providing Ogen with the perfect time to set up an Apothecarial shop.

With a purse full of leaves and satchel full of tonics, the two had managed to buy a small house for themselves – somewhere Ogen could work from and Melyssa could raise their children. And once again, they'd felt the Gods continued to shelter them in their warmth.

It'd been over a decade since then, yet Ogen could still recall their time together with such clarity. He could still remember his wife's laugh, the confused little smile that creased her features from time to time, the way she'd say his name through giggles as they'd embrace… As he crossed the unmarked road to Northreach from the Stillsnow fields, the next lot of memories bombarded him before he could try to push them back down.

Perhaps these dark memories that plagued his mind were punishment for never stopping by Northreach to see his wife again…

It'd been about 10 years ago, he reckoned, before the fall of Hornburg and about the same time Graham had met Alfyn, if his calculations were correct. The Mind-Me-Always had been just starting to bud and the sun had been just starting to visit them again after their cold, dark winter. Ogen and Melyssa had been nearing their first anniversary.

Though a year older and wiser, the two had still been children in their love for one another, teasing each other outrageously at all times. Ogen had decided to grow his beard in that winter to keep his face warm and Melyssa'd found it far too amusing to stroke his bristles and tease him for how much older it had made him look.

Despite being unblessed with a child, the two had not stopped trying, ever hoping that the next year there'd be a babe at their table… It had not diminished their love as it had with some others. No, they'd continued to be merry and hopeful, sure the Gods were favouring them.

Then that mercenary had turned up at the bridge into town.

Ogen had been giving check-ups when he noticed the hubbub at the gate, curiosity spurring him on. The man'd been of similar age to himself, a former Knight's Ardante if his sword was anything to go by, and bleeding profusely. The guard had refused to let him in, knowing he was a wanted man and understanding that a lot of the blood on his cloak was not his own. And yet…

At that time, Ogen had still been much like Alfyn and Graham – he'd believed everyone deserved the chance to be healed, the chance to make up for their sins – he'd been naïve and proud of his talents, unable to leave anyone wanting his help at the side of the road.

Despite the guard's insistence that he shouldn't, Ogen had taken the mercenary into his home and promised that he'd be the one responsible for the man. Melyssa, knowing her husband's kind nature, had been more than willing to allow the stranger into her home and cook him his meals, aiding in administering tonics to him when needed. Between the two of them, they had helped get the man back on his feet in less than a week.

They'd made him promise that he'd change his ways, that he'd go back to his alleged wife and son a new man, for his family's sake. The mercenary had agreed, thankful for everything the two of them had done for him.

So, the next day, when Ogen had gone out to pick herbs and flowers for his tonics and wife, he'd thought nothing of it. It'd been a day like any other, the Mind-Me-Always finally in full bloom and the sun blessing them with its warmth.

A warm, unassuming day for something so cold.

Ogen stopped in his tracks at the bottom of Northreach's mountain trail, his head hung low as the images came so clearly to his mind again. As the weight of everything he'd caused crashed down on him once more. "Melyssa… I'm sorry."

To this day, he could only speculate about what transpired once he left the mercenary alone with his wife. He could only wonder how the man had slipped by him and out of town as he foraged in the fields and forests. And yet, as he'd opened the door to his home, handful of Mind-Me-Always at his side, Ogen had seen all too clearly what had happened in his wife's last moments.

The air had been thick with the scent of iron; the floor had been slick with deep red blood… And in the centre of it all, lay Melyssa, a mangled mess of the beauty she'd once been. Clumps of her hair had been torn from her scalp and there was blood under her nails from where she'd tried to fight back – but what chance did a humble tavern actress have against a mercenary? Her simple dress had been torn at the side, revealing marks against her body that Ogen'd never wanted to see. And yet, as painful as the struggle had clearly been, her death had been swift.

But one stab to the heart – damage not even an apothecary could heal.

Instead, he'd simply fallen to his knees at the doorway, uncomprehendingly staring into his home. He'd apparently screamed, called her name over and over – some loud, some hushed under his breath as he did now – and attracted the entire town to his home front to see the carnage.

They'd offered him empty words and condolences, pats on the shoulder and free flagons of mead at the tavern, but their eyes were haunted with the same accusation. _'_ You _were the one who caused this._ You _were the one who brought a murderer into your home. What did you_ think _would happen?'_

Ogen'd left town before her funeral, donned in black apothecary clothes rather than his usual green. _He_ was the reason she'd been mutilated so, what right did he have to face her again, watch over her anymore?

And so he'd travelled on, leaving the only home he'd ever known as the Mind-Me-Always blew gently in the wind.

A year or so later, he'd find the man who'd killed Melyssa happily smiling with his family in a fortress town by the river and leave him in the same state he'd left his wife. He'd bloody his hands for the sake of petty revenge that would only bring more pain to the hollow thudding in his chest, not take it away. Revenge could not bring his Melyssa back.

So he'd travel on, healing with his bloodied hands as he let his body be ravaged by every disease he cured others of. He was too much of a coward to take his own life, might as well let the diseases he could easily cure do the job for him, he'd think.

And yet, there came a time, some two years after his wife's death, that he just couldn't wait any longer to see her again.

He'd been in a middle-seaside town, the name of which now escapes him, and had frequently felt the lure of the middle sea. In a town like this one, there were many ways he could've attempt to return to his wife's side, but the sea called his name the loudest. He knew not how to swim, all he'd needed to do is get a little too deep and let the currents do the rest…

With his satchel left on the sand, he'd began to wade out into the ocean – his wife's image always in his mind's eye…

He hadn't expected a colleague to travel through town at that exact moment, one who desperately wanted him to live. Without a thought for himself, the young apothecary had swum out to meet the drowning man, taking him back to the sand before he could object.

Graham Crossford had taken Ogen back to his inn room and healed him of all his diseases with his patient's satchel. And when Ogen had asked why he'd saved him, he'd given his simple statement followed by harsh requests that he keep on healing others, that he use his hands to save so many more, to shape the future for the better. Graham had told him to do with his life what he wanted, but to at least _think_ about how many more he could save before he tried taking it again.

As Ogen had rested, Graham had told him stories of his travels. He'd told him about his own dearly departed wife and the boy he'd saved with the potion that couldn't save her. Yet, he never told him why he still travelled on...

Graham's last request of him was to live.

So Ogen did, if only to honour the man once he found out that he had passed. He had continued his travels, never once healing himself of the diseases he picked up along the way, his wife ever in his mind. On more than one occasion, Ogen had thought of returning to Northreach. He never did, not knowing what he'd say to his wife if he was to return, not knowing if he'd ever have the strength to face her again.

But, today… He made the journey, all his memories close to the surface and wedding ring in his hand.

It was the that time of year again, the time when the sun shone on Northreach and the Mind-Me-Always used to bloom. And, while the sun did shine its warmth upon him as he made his way to the fields before the bridge, there were no flowers to speak of. Confused, Ogen dropped to his knees and brushed at the snow, trying to see if there were any small stalks hiding beneath the white blanket.

Mind-Me-Always had no known medicinal qualities, but they meant an awful lot to Ogen. After Alfyn had healed him of his physical wounds, he'd made him promise that he'd start trying to mend his mental wounds himself. It'd be a slow process, but he hoped that seeing the flowers and the town he had lived in with his wife would help.

But there were no flowers growing here and the town itself had only recently freed itself of its former Lord's tyrannical control. Time had changed a town he had once been happy to call his home to a cold place, one in which not even the infrequent sun could warm the cold hearts of the townsfolk.

Yet, he'd come this far…

Picking himself up off the snowy floor, Ogen looked across the bridge. A lifetime of memoires haunted this town like ghosts.

Even as he stood now, he could see his wife stood opposite him on the bridge, bag full of clothes over her shoulder and confused little smile at his proposal on her features. Past her, he could see the bloodied mercenary asking for aid. And at the gate's opening into town, he could see the ghosts of old festivals: dances and plays, feasts and contests had all taken place here when he'd lived in their small home, making the coldest town in Orsterra a much warmer place to live.

And now…

Ogen took the first step onto the bridge, his heart heavy and wedding ring on his wrong hand. He'd not worn it for many years, just the sight of it had caused him in describable pain and regret, yet today… Today he wore it for her.

The whole while he crossed the bridge into town, Ogen's feet felt like lead, each step heavy with regret and pain. Blood splatters filled his mind and the memory of the smell of iron was constantly in his nose. But he carried on, head held high. It was time to face Melyssa again, to tell her all that he'd done, all the mistakes he'd made and regrets that had haunted his every tonic. It was time to ask her to forgive him for all he'd done.

He'd tarried long enough.

And still, as he crossed the threshold into town, it appeared that there would still be events to hold him back even longer.

"Someone! Get a medic, quick!" A young man was shouting, drawing quite the crowed around where he knelt next to a fallen woman.

Ogen snapped into action immediately. "Let me through, I'm an apothecary." He'd said simply, pushing pass people gently as he made his way to the woman on the floor.

As he performed his diagnostics, he could hear the older people in town whispering amongst themselves. "Is that-?" "No, it couldn't possibly be-" "After all this time…" And as he checked the girl over, determining that she'd had an adverse reaction to something she'd eaten in the tavern, the apothecary half listened to the whispered wonderings around him, knowing at a glance whom most of these people were. Even the young girl he was mixing a tonic for had been a former patient of his when she was young, as had the man knelt every by her side.

Melyssa and he had been close with their parents, ever hoping that they too might be blessed with so energetic children. Always knowing that these two young friends had been destined for something more than friendship.

"Will she survive, Mister?" The lad asked him.

"Aye," he nodded, mixing water into his tonic so that she could drink it. "Open her mouth for me."

The young man nodded, gently prising her clenched mouth open with his fingers as Ogen lifted her head so that she could drink. Immediately, her breathing resumed its regular pace and her heart beat slowed to normal under his fingers at her pulse.

"We need to get her into the warmth," Ogen said to the man, knowing she was not completely out of the woods yet. "Does she have a house we can take her to?"

"Y-Yes!" The man nodded, standing quickly and pointing deeper into town. "I can take you to it."

"Good." Ogen also stood, putting his supplies back in his satchel. "Carry the girl gently, we don't want any complications."

"Uh, yessir!" The man scooped the girl up in his arms and held her tenderly, waiting for Ogen's next instructions.

He simply looked at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Well? Show me the way to her home."

"Oh! Yes!" And so the two men walked through town together, Ogen's eyes ever wondering and his ears open to the whispering behind him.

His curtness had come with his age, much like the grey in his hair and scraggly beard and the cynical look that had hardened his eyes. Back when he'd lived here in Northreach, he'd been young and hopeful, his every statement as kind and considered as Alfyn's were. He wanted his patients to feel comfortable with him, like they could tell him everything.

Time had taught him that a hard and curt stance was the best way to get to the crux of the matter quickly, the quickest way to save a life. And as a traveller, what did it matter if those in a town he might never visit again thought him rude? But, as they neared the girl's house, Ogen realised that these people would likely remember him and that, perhaps, a more polite stance was the better approach to a town he might want to stay in a while longer.

"This is her's, sir." The man said, nodding at the small house nestled in a corner. It was a house Ogen knew as well as… Well, no, it _had_ been his own. Just looking at the faded façade brought back a wealth of happy memories he'd thought long forgotten. How many times had Melyssa and he painted those walls, planted flowers and herbs in the beds just besides the door? How had he let the last bad memory of what had been a happy home make him forget all the good ones?

"Sir?" The man looked at him in confusion, probably taking in the tears in his eyes, the reminiscence in his small smile.

"Oh, yes." He opened the unlocked door.

Iron assaulted his nose, an image of blood and horror hid behind his eyes. And yet, freshly baked bread also flitted into his senses, the image of a beauty smiling as she stirred a stew and made fun of his beard coming to his mind unbidden. He was home and yet not home at the same time. This house now belonged to another, someone who had decorated it far differently to Melyssa and baked cakes rather than bread. Someone who was just beginning to stir in her friend's arms.

"Sir!" The man shouted as the woman in his arms began to wake, breaking him of his reminiscence.

"Put her on the bed." He ordered, instinctively moving to hang his satchel on the hook by the door; only it wasn't there anymore and that he simply looked like an old fool holding his bag at arm's length. He cleared his throat, bringing his bag back to his side as he riffled through it for the tonic he'd administered to the girl earlier.

"What…?" The girl breathed, her eyes fluttering open as soon as her back it her bed.

"Oh thank the Gods, sir!" The man exclaimed, a large smile on his features. "You've saved her life!"

"Just," he shrugged, "doin' my job."

"Well, thank you anyway, I'm forever in your debt." The man bowed.

Ogen nodded. "Would you mind leaving me alone with your friend a moment, I'd like to ask her some questions?"

"Of course, sir!" The man nodded, young and trusting, not a concern in his mind that Ogen might do something terrible to his friend as soon as he left the room.

Indeed, after he left, the apothecary only asked the quiet young girl a few questions – not to make sure that she deserved to live, but to make sure she was aware of what not to eat so that she wouldn't have a reaction like that again. And after he'd given her a tonic that could be administered should she react the same way again, he decided it was time to leave her to rest.

But she held him back, asking him if she'd met him before. Just that question had unlocked something inside Ogen, something that made him want to explain that he'd lived in this house before with his wife, that after she'd died he'd become a vagabond… Something that made him want to explain to this unassuming girl that he was here to put some of his darkest memories to rest.

All he did was shrug and admit that he'd lived in this town long ago with his wife. All he said was that after all these years the fancy had struck him to see the old place.

The girl nodded, tonic in hand. "I hope you'll stay with us this time… Forever."

With his back to her, Ogen chuckled softly under his breath. After all these years of travelling, the notion of a permanent home was a foreign novelty, especially one in this town. What right did he have to live in this town again after abandoning it during his darkest hours?

No, he didn't deserve to call this town home again, at least not until he'd spoken to Melyssa.

With a curt goodbye, he left the girl and the house that had once been his, turning back on the streets in search of any others who might need his aid.

* * *

It was a few hours later when he found himself before the town square again. He'd given the whole town a check-up, healing both new and old faces with the same curt manner that he'd used on everyone in his travels. As he'd done his job, he couldn't help but recall memories he'd long forgotten, happy ones that he'd thought so long lost he'd never see them again. With each memory, he'd wondered why exactly the fancy had struck him now of all times to come back to Northreach.

Yes, it was nearing that time of year again, the anniversary of her death marked permanently in his mind, but was there _another_ reason why he'd returned? And if it was only that he wanted to speak with Melyssa again, what right did he have to do so? Would he even be able to? Or would he freeze up and start crying before her, begging for forgiveness like a lesser man?

"Melyssa…" He muttered her name under his breath again as he pondered whether or not he should visit her grave. Lost in his thoughts and memories, he was oblivious to the fact that Alfyn and his group of misfits had just arrived in town, completely unaware of the concerned look his younger colleague was giving him.

With a clenched fist, Ogen followed the road to the old chapel and the single gravestone stood next to it.

He stood before it, his mind empty of all memories, only questions were left to run amok. _Why didn't I stay to see you into the ground safely?_ _Why did I leave before your funeral, why have I not told you my regrets and mistakes before now? Why have I left you alone so long as I travelled? Why have I never visited you before?_

"Melyssa..." Ogen bowed his head, tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Ogen?" Someone called his name from just behind him. It was a voice he'd come to recognise all too well over these last few moons. "What're you doing here?"

Swallowing a sigh and the sob in his throat, Ogen turned to face the younger apothecary. He'd saved his life, a life he hadn't wanted saving. He'd given him yet another chance to turn his life around. No, he didn't want it and he wouldn't thank the man, but he would at least be honest with him.

"Alfyn." He nodded, none of his previous exasperation when he said the lad's name in his voice. He turned back to the grave before him, talking over his shoulder so that the young man wouldn't have to see the tears that continued to stand so clearly in his eyes. Apothecaries were known to be sensitive people, but that didn't mean they liked to be caught crying.

"I wanted to bring some of my wife's favourite flowers to her grave. But it seems like they don't grow around here anymore." He chuckled to himself, a crying laugh. "Just my luck, really."

"What are they?" Alfyn asked, his voice as subdued as Ogen's.

"They're called Mind-Me-Always." Ogen nodded to himself, not seeing the man behind him beginning to furiously riffle through his satchel. "I doubt you know them. They have no known medicinal qualities, after all…"

"Is this one?"

Ogen turned to look at Alfyn, surprise colouring his features as he saw the bloom in the young man's hand. It was crocked and slightly flattened, but it was still vibrant and alive, pollen delicately decorating its petals. "That's… a Mind-Me-Always… Where-?"

"Take it." Alfyn thrust the flower towards him, cutting off his question.

"Are… Are you certain?" He asked even as he took it.

"Yep! Like you said, it's got not medical qualities." Alfyn crossed his arms, a sad smile at his lips. "Besides, it looks like you need it more than I do."

Looking the flower over in curiosity, Ogen let out a small chuckle, wiping his eyes with his hand as he bowed his head again. "My wife loved these best of all… Thank you, Alfyn."

Alfyn took a step back as Ogen turned back to the grave, giving him the space to grieve as he needed. But… The older apothecary wasn't here to grieve.

"Melyssa… I'm home at last." He smiled on her grave, kneeling before it at he placed the Mind-Me-Always at its base. "Remember? How much you loved Mind-Me-Always blossoms? I thrust a handful of these at you when I proposed to you, standing in that field outside the village…" Tears rolled freely down his face as he saw her smile as she took the flowers from him that day. "You took them, and your smile was brighter than the sun…"

Memories of their first kiss, the mad rush they'd made to Flamesgrace to get married as they'd laughed came to him as he paused, his sad smile never wavering as he continued to cry. "Not a day has ever passed when I don't think about you…"

He bowed his head lower, hands on his knees as his thoughts became words before Melyssa's grave. "I've been wandering all this time, looking for a reason to keep on living. And I think… I've finally found it."

Ogen raised his head, turning his attention to the sky. "I'm gonna keep on helping people as an apothecary for a while yet. So I won't be coming to join you as soon as I thought I might. …I hope you'll watch over me… and wait for me to come to you...

"One more thing…" Ogen turned to look at Alfyn behind him – it looked like he'd been crying as much as the other man had. Looking him in the eye, he continued, "There's someone I'd like to introduce you to, I hope you don't mind me bringing him by here. He's the one who reminded me what it really means to be an apothecary."

Alfyn blinked in surprise as he registered Ogen's words. " _Me?_ Aw shucks, really?"

Ogen chuckled under his breath and nodded. "Come over here, Alfyn."

Alfyn stood next to Ogen, seeming to be scratching at his butt rather strangely. Ogen shook his head and stood too. "This is Alfyn, the man who saved me from myself… again."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Alfyn said formerly to the tombstone. "I've heard lots about you… and I'm sorry that I'm the reason your husband won't be returning to you quite as quickly as he might like."

Ogen snorted a little as he watched the man tell his wife what he'd done, how he'd saved him. As he watched on, the older apothecary realised something with a start. Though Alfyn was far older than if he'd been his own blood, he saw the fellow apothecary as a son - one who ignored all his advice and did whatever he thought was best, surprising him in how right he was with his judgements. And as he watched the man apologise to Melyssa again for saving Ogen's life, he realised that his wife would likely see Alfyn in a similar light.

The Gods had only smiled on them briefly while Melyssa had lived, seemed spiteful in their desire to keep Ogen alive this past decade, and yet… It had allowed him to meet the kid Graham had saved, the man who was keeping his legacy and beliefs alive far better than anyone else.

He hoped they'd continue to smile on Alfyn as he travelled. He hoped they might once again look upon Ogen favourable as he kept an eye on the lad… and set up shop again in the town that would always have a home for him.

"Do… Do you think she can forgive me, Ogen?" Alfyn asked quietly after a moment.

"I think she already has, Alfyn."

"Do you think she would've like me?"

Ogen smiled to himself as he looked down at the Mind-Me-Always, somehow untouched by the snow falling around them and glowing with a light all its own. He nodded, agreeing under his breath. "Aye… Son."

And so the two apothecaries stood there, snow falling all around them as they told Melyssa all that had happened in her absence. And, as the sun started to break through the clouds, Ogen could've sworn that she was smiling upon them, forgiving him of all his sins and his new found desire to keep on living...


End file.
